


Namasté

by imnotpoppunk



Category: Panic! at the Disco
Genre: Eating Disorders, M/M, student/teacher side relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-24
Updated: 2016-04-25
Packaged: 2018-06-04 05:41:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 21,383
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6643642
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/imnotpoppunk/pseuds/imnotpoppunk
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Namasté (nah-məs-tay): "The Spirit in me honors the Spirit in you." </p><p>Brendon Urie hit rock bottom once, and he's determined to never hit it again. He's found peace in his job as a yoga instructor, as well as in trying to see the good in everything around him. Even if it means pretending bad things don't bother him. </p><p>Ryan Ross is back to living with his parents while dealing with his own divorce and being laid off. Needless to say, Ryan is familiar with rock bottom as well.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> Hey everyone, thank you for clicking on this! This is the first thing I'm posting on this site, so forgive me if I'm making any formatting mistakes. I was previously only on Wattpad, which as you may know, has a very different set-up than this site. But anyway, I hope you enjoy this! :)

I spent my 21st birthday in the hospital. 

No one came to visit me or tell me they loved me, mostly because they thought I was just out partying and had too much to drink. I guess that would have made sense. But I remember just feeling so, so upset because I couldn't believe that it was my own bad habits that had gotten me to that point. 

The week leading up to that birthday was rough, because Spencer told me that he was getting me "the best cake in the world" and that he was going to buy me all the drinks I wanted when we went out. And I would have felt so guilty turning him down because I knew he was just trying to make me happy. 

But the cake just sounded like a gross mess of calories and the alcohol - I couldn't even think about that because there were so many different types who knows what he planned on getting and - point was, it was too much. Far too much. 

I cried myself to sleep every night thinking about that damn cake, convinced that Spencer was trying to make me fat on purpose. But I didn't tell him that. Because I reminded myself that Spencer was so happy about that cake, too happy for someone trying to wish bad things on me. 

I was just out of my mind. 

So the days leading up to my birthday, I couldn't touch anything. As hungry as I made myself, I just couldn't allow myself to take anything in because then I wouldn't be able to indulge Spencer. And I didn't want my friend to know I didn't want his cake. I certainly didn't want him to know how much I hated myself. 

But he ended up finding out anyway. 

We were sitting in the back of our Uber, on our way to the small party at his place. I went to the store with him to pick up the stupid cake, and I felt myself leaning away from it even in the car. He had a smile plastered to his face, and all I could smell was the sugar. So much fucking sugar. 

"Here we are," Spencer said, sliding out on his side and holding the door open for me. I pulled myself over across the seats, wincing because I was so weak it hurt to move. "You alright, bud?" 

I nodded, cringing at the thought that Spencer was noticing. He shouldn't have been paying that much attention. 

I stood up, ready to close the door behind me. And that was when I collapsed. 

\---

Fast-forward a couple of years. I'm healthy, both physically and mentally. I have a job that I love and I live with my best friend. I try to smile as often as I can, and I haven't fasted since those days leading up to my twenty-first. 

The apartment that Spencer and I share is small, but it's cute and I love it. Every morning, the sun streams in through the sliding glass doors in the living room, reaching to the kitchen where I stand to prepare my lunch for the day. 

I hear a door creak down the hall and I look up to see Spencer trudging in in his pajamas. 

"Good morning, Sleepyhead," I laugh. 

"How can you be laughing this early?" he grumbles, pulling up one of the stools and sitting down. He inspects the salad I'm putting into a plastic container and wrinkles his nose. "Damn, I thought you were making breakfast." 

"I can," I offer, slipping the salad into my lunch bag and sealing it. "I've got to head out soon, uh - what do you want?" 

"No, it's fine, I don't want to make you late," he chuckles, brushing me off. 

"Spence, it's not a big deal. What do you want? Eggs? I'll make you some eggs," I say, pulling open the fridge and frowning when I realize we don't actually have any eggs left. "Scratch that, we have no eggs. I'll pick some up on my way home later." 

"Be a sweetheart and pick up some bread too?" he says, with a grin. 

"Not a problem," I say, smoothly. I look around the kitchen, trying to figure out what to do for Spencer's breakfast. "Let's see, I think there's some cereal in the pantry-" 

"Bren, just go, I'll figure it out," he chuckles. I finally sigh and gather up my things so I can leave. "Have a good day, call me if you need anything." 

I smile and thank him, telling him to do the same. It's a relatively normal thing to tell the people you care about, but I feel as though it has a more significant meaning with us. I don't always know how to think of it. 

Call me if you need anything. Call me if you feel sad today. Call me if you think you want to starve yourself. Call me so I can do anything in my power to make it better. 

Sometimes it was harder to hear than other times, but today I just thank my lucky stars that I had a friend like Spencer and head out. 

The community center where I teach yoga is only a couple of blocks away from our apartment, so I just walk. It's beautiful out, and I take the time to really digest everything I see and feel. The blue sky. The warm sun. People bustling around me. 

When I get to the center, I check in with the front desk. The girl, Jenna, smiles and waves at me as I approach her. I smile and wave back, of course. 

"Good morning, how are you doing?" I ask her, as she gets out the key I need for my room. 

"Great! You?" she asks. Jenna is such a sweet girl. She told me once that she works at the community center as a receptionist to make money for nursing school. 

"Awesome as always," I say, enthusiastically. "How's the puppy?" 

"Oh, he's adorable. Getting so big so fast," she giggles, pulling her phone out so she can show me a picture. 

"That's amazing," I say. "Anyway, I should get going. I hope you have a nice day." 

She smiles at me as I make my way down the hallway to the dance studio that I use for my yoga classes. The room is empty, and I take a few minutes to set out my stuff at the front. I spread my yoga mat out at the front and grab the boombox from the closet so I can play one of my CDs with relaxing music. 

Just as I finish, people start trickling and I make sure to greet everyone. My class is a beginning class, so I always see so many different types of people each week, and it makes me so happy. After being in the hospital, one of my therapists recommended trying Yoga as a way to relax and clear my mind. Honestly, I'm not sure where I would be if I hadn't taken her advice and I hope that I can help other people in that way, as well. 

One of my regulars walks in, an older lady named Danielle. I smile and greet her as always, not failing to notice the boy tagging along behind her. I probably shouldn't say boy, because he's taller than me and probably the same age, but he's got a boyish look about him. 

"Brendon, I want you to meet my son, Ryan," she said, smiling. I smile, too and reach out to shake his hand. Ryan doesn't smile, but he makes eye contact with me and shakes my hand. He looks reluctant, like he doesn't want to be here. 

"It's very nice to meet you, Ryan," I tell him. And really, it is. 

"How long is this class?" he asks his mom, breaking eye contact with me. 

"Only an hour, trust me, it flies by," I chuckle. Sometimes I wish the class lasted all day long. Danielle sighs and hands their mats to Ryan, telling him to go roll them out in her usual spot in the front row. "So you're getting your son into yoga now?" 

"Oh, he needs it, Brendon," she says, almost sadly. I knit my eyebrows, wondering what she means by that, but not wanting to pry. Luckily she elaborates anyway. "His wife left him about a month ago and he's been laid off and . . . I'm trying to find a way to get him motivated again, you know?" 

"Yeah, I know exactly what you mean," I say, offering her a supportive smile. She puts her hand on my shoulder briefly before moving past me to join her son.

I turn, steal a quick glance back at them and decide that I really want to see him smile.


	2. Chapter Two

The class goes well. Every now and then I have to deal with a complaint or someone will interrupt. But not today. Today is a good day. 

I find myself looking over at Ryan, because even after all of the poses we did, he still looks unhappy. I really hoped that my class was going to help him, but I guess not.

"Alright, everyone, that's a wrap," I say, as people start to get up and roll their mats. I get to my feet and smile at the room. "I can't wait to see you all next week and . . . if anyone has any questions, please feel free to let me know." 

I stood at the front of the room, waiting a little while so that people could talk to me if they needed to. Most people didn't. A couple of ladies asked me if I was teaching the summer session, too. That was coming up in a few weeks and I proudly told her that, yes, I am teaching the summer session. 

I glance over again and notice that Danielle and Ryan are all packed up, so I make my way over to them, smiling as bright as possible. 

"So, what did we think?" I ask, cheerily. 

"I think it went well, didn't it, Ryan?" she says, sweetly. We both turn to him and he just shrugs, looking a little distant. 

"It was okay, I guess," he breathes. His brown eyes flicker up to meet mine for a brief moment before he looks away again. He tightens his jaw and I feel like I've lost already. I don't even know what I was playing for or why a smile seemed so damn important. 

"Well, maybe we'll be back next week," Danielle smiles. 

"Maybe," Ryan says, his voice flat. I shouldn't take it personally, but I kind of do. 

"Awesome," I say, anyway, slapping on a smile. I put my hands together in front of my chest and make a little bow. "Namasté to you both." 

"Namasté," Danielle grins, returning the gesture. Ryan just looks confused. 

"What?" he asks, giving a skeptical look. 

"It means 'the spirit in me honors the spirit in you,'" Danielle clarified, glancing at me to make sure she got that right.

I smiled, and Ryan just gave me a blank look before he headed out of the room. Oh. 

"I'm so sorry about that, like I said, he's been having such a hard time-" 

"Oh, no - no, don't feel sorry about that," I insisted. "I totally understand. Sometimes it's hard to start new things." 

"Thank you," she says, pursing her lips together in an appreciative grin. I continue to smile until she leaves. Then, I'm in an empty room and I have to clean up.

After I leave the community center, I catch a bus that takes me a couple stops over to where the grocery store. I haven't forgotten about the eggs or the bread, and I shoot Spencer a text to see if there is anything else he needs from the store. 

The grocery store I go to is a rather small one. Sometimes, even now, buying groceries in one of the bigger stores is a little overwhelming. But this one is nice, and I know the cashiers by name. It makes me feel more comfortable. 

I stroll through the aisles until I find the case with the eggs. Just as I pick them up, I happen to turn and see a semi-familiar guy inspecting the milk. 

"Ryan? Oh, how funny is this?" I chuckle, taking a couple of paces towards him. He looks at me with wild eyes, blinking like I was the last person he expected to see. I mean, I guess people typically don't go into grocery stores expecting to see anyone, but still. He seems surprised. 

"Not gonna lie, this is kind of weird," he says, raising a curious eyebrow. "You're following me?" 

"No, not at all. Purely coincidence," I chuckle. He rolls his eyes and grins. But it doesn't count because it's a sarcastic grin. 

"Look, I know what my mom is trying to do, and I'm really sorry," he said, in an almost bored tone. I think about it for a minute and then shrug. 

"Why are you sorry?" I ask. Danielle told me he was going through a divorce or something. Why would he have to apologize to me about that. 

"She's dead- set on setting me up with someone," he says, only barely cracking a smile. So close. 

"Setting you up?" I ask, confused. "With me?" 

I took a moment to connect the dots before it registered in my mind what he was talking about. 

"Yeah, it's weird, right?" he breathes. 

"I'm so sorry, I didn't realize. She told me that you were going through a rough patch and she wanted to introduce you to yoga," I say. He frowns even more and I can feel myself deflating. I give him a smile anyway, slowly taking in the fact that Ryan has a very nice face. 

"Yeah, more like introduce me to her cute yoga instructor," he laughs, and I swear it's the best laugh I've heard in a long time. Ryan's laugh makes his entire face light up, but I get flustered instead of enjoying it because I can feel the heat rising in my cheeks. 

"Oh, well, gee," I say, running my fingers through my hair. "Well, I'm sorry if that's awkward for you. Really, I had no idea. She told me you had a wife." 

"Yeah," he says, the word rolling off of his tongue. "Had." 

A moment of silence passes between us as I start to feel awkward for assuming he was straight. My mind wanders for a moment and I start to wonder if that meant Danielle just assumes I'm into men. Not that she's wrong, but I never disclosed that information so it makes me wonder if I just sort of give off that vibe. 

"Well, this has been thoroughly weird enough for one day," he says, grinning only slightly. "I suppose I'll see you around." 

"Yeah," I breathe, because I can't think of anything else to say. "Will you be at next week's session?" 

He just shrugs. 

"Maybe."


	3. Chapter Three

Spencer and I have been friends for a long time. It's not hard for me to notice when he's upset about something or when he's had a bad day. And today he's had a bad day. 

I'm lying on my bed, reading a book, when the front door opens and then slams shut again, making the whole apartment shake. I mark my place and set the book aside, leaving my room so I could see what the ruckus was. 

"Spence?" I call out, as he storms past me. I sigh empathetically and follow him into his room. His face is red and his eyes are dark. "Spencer, what's wrong?" 

"Nothing, I'm fine," he says, dismissively. I stay calm, knowing he'll reveal what it is eventually so I can talk to him about it. Just as I expect, he lets out a sigh of defeat and sits down on the bench at the foot of his bed. "I um, I fucked up real bad at work." 

I furrow my brow and keep my gaze at him. Spencer is a music teacher at the high school, so the thought of him fucking up is especially concerning. 

"What happened?" I ask, keeping my voice calm. I wonder if that meant he lost his job, or if he was taking a pay cut or something. If he's out of the job, it means money will be taught because I definitely don't make enough to afford the rent without him. 

"I'm being investigated," he grumbles. I purse my lips. 

"Why?" I ask, cringing when I realize I sound like a disappointed mother. I look away from him and chew on my lip so he doesn't think I'm being condescending. I'm sure whatever it is we can work through it. 

"Don't freak out," he says. 

Oh no. 

"I promise I won't," I say, grinning and placing a supportive hand on his shoulder. 

"I slept with a student," he says it quickly, wincing like he's ripping off a bandaid. Nice and quick. 

"Spencer!" I gasp. I can't deny that I'm shocked. I just sort of gape at him, my eyebrows taught and my jaw hanging. "Why – why would you do that?" 

"I know, I know, it was stupid and I shouldn't have – She's eighteen, Brendon. I swear she's eighteen," he says, like he has to beg to make sure I don't think he's a pedophile. 

"God, Spencer," I mumbled, pressing my hands to my face for a moment or two so I can think. "What's going to happen?" 

"I'll probably get fired," he admits, guilt lacing his voice. I bite my lip, my stomach churning with anxiety as my brain tried to keep up. "Right now, they've just got me on leave, but . . . fuck." 

"Oh," I say. I close my eyes and take a deep breath in, trying to collect my thoughts. Everything will be okay. We'll be fine. This is –

"It's without pay," he adds. 

Nevermind the fact that Spencer slept with one of his students or that he might lose his favorite job – this was something that was now affecting both of us. I didn't want to say it, but I was so mad at him. I take a moment to let it mull over in my mind, not wanting to say anything rude or explode at Spencer. 

After I'm done thinking, I stand up. 

"I'll call the diner, see if I can pick up any extra shifts," I mumble, leaving him to himself. The diner is this place my sister owns, and she lets me pick up shifts when I need the extra money– sometimes there are slow months, where I see fewer clients, teach fewer classes, that kind of thing. 

I step out onto the porch, knowing that the fresh air will help calm me down. I take out my phone and scroll to her number, before pressing the phone against my ear. 

"Hello?" she says when she answers. She sounds slightly annoyed. Maybe she's busy and I shouldn't have called her on her cell phone while she was at work. 

"Hey, Kara, it's Brendon, I need a favor," I say, reluctantly. She knows what I mean by that by this point. 

"Good, so do I," she says. "We're packed today and I could use an extra body." 

"Oh . . . today?" I ask. I have no prior engagements, but I wasn't planning on having to leave the house today. I check my watch for some reason. 

"Yeah, is that okay? I can't really talk right now. If you need to talk we can talk later," she says, in a hurried voice. 

"Yeah, that's fine. Thank you," I say. She mumbled a brief 'good bye' before hanging up. I let out a tired sigh and walk back into the house. Spencer's out of his room, sitting on the living room couch and in the process of turning on the TV. 

When I enter the room, he stares up at me with cautious eyes and I swallow hard before disappearing into my room so that I can get ready to leave. 

\---

"Really? Spencer?" Kara scoffs in disbelief as I tell her what's happened. I shrug, moving past her in the kitchen to drop off a few plates into the sink. "That doesn't seem like him at all." 

"I know, I still can't really believe it . . . " I mutter, shaking my head. "He says she's eighteen, though." 

"Still, he's her teacher. They don't take those kinds of things lightly," She says, in a skeptical tone. She gives me a taught smile before leaving the back room. Once she's out there, I find myself spacing out a bit, only drawn back when she bursts back into the room. 

"Something wrong?" I ask her, giving her an amused look. 

"No, not at all," she laughs. "There's someone at table four. It's so empty now it caught me off guard." 

"Oh, how silly," I chuckle. She gives me a wild look and laughs. 

"Silly. Yes, something like that," she breathes. "Anyway, you should get this one. He's a regular. Very interesting guy." 

"If he's a regular, shouldn't you want to talk to him?" I point out. She shrugs. 

"Yeah, but – he seems like he could be your type of . . . you know," she says, hiding a smile. I roll my eyes casually. 

"What is with everyone trying to set me up with people?" 

"Everyone?" She asks, raising a curious eyebrow. I purse my lips together and think of Ryan. I hope I get to see him again. 

"Okay, not everyone, but the other day one of my clients totally tried to set me up with her son," I explain. She giggles at that but insist that I at least go out and see. I give in and take one step outside to where I can see table four. I gasp and turn back into the room. 

"What? You're acting like he's ugly or something, come on Bren-" 

"No! No, God no –" I say, brushing her off as I peer through the little window again, making sure that it was indeed that very same Ryan sitting at the booth, looking over some sort of paper. 

"What?" she asks, peering through to try and see what I'm seeing. 

"That's the same guy," I tell her and her grin doubles. I'm suddenly flustered. Maybe even nervous. I shouldn't be so nervous, especially when Ryan's been casual and relatively calm both times I've seen him. 

"No way! Oh my god, it's fate," she insists, giving me a hard shove to push me through the swinging doors. I trip over my own shoelace and end up on the floor. 

Quickly, I pick myself up, only to see Ryan looking up from his papers to see what the commotion is. His eyes lock on mine and a second feels like an hour. Recognition clicks in his eyes and he gives me a wry smile. 

I walk around the counter and over to his table. 

"So is this more weird or less weird than the grocery store?" I ask him. 

"Well, I suppose it depends on how you look at it," he says, his lips spreading into a small but genuine smile. I have to really focus on bringing myself back to reality. 

"So, uh, what can I get you?" I ask him. 

"Just a coffee, please," he says, glancing back down at the papers. I accidentally steal a glance and notice that they're legal documents. 

"I'll be right back," I say. I grab a cup and fill it with the hot liquid before bringing it back to the table. I set it in front of him and motion towards the packets of sugar on the table if he needs them. 

"Thank you," he says, quietly. I'm not sure if I should stay or if that's where our conversation ends. "You busy?" 

I look around the empty diner, catching a glimpse of Kara peeking through the window of the back door. I smile to myself. 

"Nope," I say and he motions to the bench across from him. I graciously accept his offer. "So – ah, what brings you here?" 

"Just needed a quiet place to think," he shrugs. He brings the coffee mug to his pink lips and takes a sip. "I've never seen you here before." 

"I'm not here very often," I admit. "I had a bit of a crisis this morning and . . . long story short, I need the extra money." 

"I see," he nods, looking back down at the papers. He gives a small but morbid laugh. "My ex sent me this long ass thing and I don't even know what to make of it." 

"What is it?" I ask, because I really wasn't sure. I assumed it had to do with the divorce. 

"Something her lawyer wrote up about who gets what," he says, with an elongated huff. His eyes widen for a moment before he looks back up at me. "She wants the house and the dog. How fucked up is that?" 

"Pretty fucked up," I say. I have no idea if it's fucked up or not, but he seems like he needs someone on his side. He rolls his eyes and shakes his head before flipping through the packet and scrawling a signature across the dotted line. If there's sadness in his eyes, it only lasts for a moment. "Do you guys have kids?" 

"No, thank God," he scoffs. "Not that there's anything wrong with kids, that would just be a whole other nightmare, you know?" 

"Yeah," I breathe. For some reason I feel awkward talking about his divorce. I don't really know him that well and it sounds like personal information that I can't really express my opinion on. 

"So what's your crisis, if you don't mind me asking?" 

"Crisis?" I ask, blanking. 

"You said you had a bit of a crisis this morning," he shrugs, casual. 

"Right . . . My roommate lost his job," I explained. He nods, as if to say 'yeah, that sucks, man.' 

I look up as the bell on the door rings, and a group of people file in. I sigh in disappointment because I would really much rather sit and talk to Ryan. I feel torn, because I want to ask him on a date but I feel like that may be crossing a line. Maybe he isn't over his ex-wife yet. 

"I should get back to work," I mumbled. "It was nice talking to you." 

"Yeah, it was," he says, with a crooked smile. A beautiful, crooked smile. "Hey, you wouldn't want to grab dinner sometime, would you?" 

I stare at him, my cheeks suddenly tight from a smile I didn't even know I had on. 

"That's – yeah, yeah," I say, flustered. I look back over at the people, thinking I have a minute. "Let me give you my number." 

He nods and pulls out his phone for me to enter in my information. As I do, I hear Kara calling my name to come help her. 

"Yeah, here, I'll see you soon, then," I said. He smiles up at me and gives a short wave before I head off to see what chaos is brewing in the kitchen.


	4. Chapter Four

"So, I heard the good news," Danielle says excitedly after the studio clears out. Ryan isn't with her this week, which I'm not too bummed about because our date is tonight. I've been thinking about it so much, wondering what I should wear and what to say and all that fun stuff. 

"Oh, Ryan told you?" I chuckle. I feel a little awkward, but I can't help but smile at the mention of him or our date. 

"Yes! And I just wanted to tell you that I really appreciate you taking him out, he really needs to get out of the house more, you know?" she sighs, and it clicks in my mind that maybe she thinks I'm taking him out on a pity date or something. 

"Actually, he's picking me up and . . . I don't know if he told you, but we've run into each other a couple times since last week and I don't know, I guess I like him," I explained, bashfully. Her face brightened, like she was just so tickled by that. 

"Oh, that's so great," she said. "You have no idea how happy I am about this." 

"I'm happy about it as well," I say, giving her a polite smile as I start to clean up my stuff. I'm not trying to rush her along, but I do have to be out of the room because there's a kids' ballet class in the studio after mine. 

She says goodbye to me and I finish gathering my things before I leave right behind her. I stop at the front desk to drop off my keys. 

"Ooh, Brendon look at this," Jenna says excitedly showing me her phone. I smile as she shows me another picture of her new puppy. "Tyler just sent me this and I miss him already. I just want to stay home all day and play with the puppy." 

"Does the puppy have a name yet?" I asked her. She gave me a bashful smile and shook her head. 

"We can't decide," she admits. 

"Oh, haha, well, I'm actually kind of in a hurry. I've got to get going. I'd love to hear more about the puppy next time," I tell her, sweetly. 

"Aww, where're you going?" she asks. I purse my lips, trying to suppress a really stupid grin. 

"I have a date," I tell her, and she gasps. Her mouth formed an oval and her blue eyes got so wide. 

"Brendon! Oh my gosh, that's great," she says, excitedly. I nod, because I know. It is great. It's amazing. "I'm so happy for you . . . you have to tell me how it goes." 

"Oh, I will," I assured her. "Well, take care. Tell puppy I say hi." 

She laughs at my request and I wave to her before exiting. 

\---

Before I know it, I'm leaving for my date. Well, not really leaving because Ryan is picking me up. But he texts me that he's outside my building, waiting in his car. My heart flutters with nervous energy and move quickly down the hall to Spencer's room. 

"Hey, I'm heading out," I say, as he looks up from his laptop. I'm still a little stressed about his situation, and I know he is too. But it doesn't change the fact that we're friends and I don't hate him for it. 

"Alright, have fun," he says. "Call me if you need anything." 

I smile and nod before leaving the room and the house altogether. 

I smile when I see that Ryan is pulled up outside in a blue VW bug. I pull open the door and slip inside. 

"Don't judge, it's my mom's car," he says, a smile playing at his lips. I just laugh. I take in his face, noticing he's clean-shaven this time. He's got this light scent of cologne coming off him and he's wearing this black leather jacket. 

"I'm not judging," I insisted as he started driving. "Thank you for picking me up." 

"Not a problem," he says, looking away from me so he can concentrate on the road. "You look nice today." 

I look nice? Has he seen himself? 

"Thank you, so do you," I say, which is a much tamer representation of what I'm actually thinking. 

"So I'm thinking we go to McDonalds," he says casually. I pause, my mind immediately jumping to the fact that I still refuse to eat fast-food before it jumps to the fact that it isn't exactly an ideal date spot.

"Okay," I say, not wanting to hurt his feelings.

"Damn, I was joking," he chuckles. "Are you really that nice that you'd let me take you on a shitty date?"

I shrug and he just laughs.

"You kinda remind me of a Disney character," he says. When I don't say anything, he elaborates. "It's a good thing."

"Oh, okay," I say. "It's sorry if I'm being weird I'm just nervous."

"Why?" he asks, this wildly amused look on his face. It's like he can't even fathom why I would be nervous around him. He has no idea. 

"It's been a long time since I've been on a date, not gonna lie," I say, hoping that doesn't make the conversation more awkward than it has to be. 

"Well, while we're both not lying, I'll admit that this is my first date with, um, with a guy," he says, his confidence faltering a bit. I raise an eyebrow and stay silent in hopes that he'll elaborate. "It sounds bad, but it's kind of the driving force behind my divorce. I was really unhappy and I eventually realized that . . . well, it's because I was married to a woman and I don't even like women." 

I look up at the restaurant we've arrived at as he pulls into a parking spot. It's nothing too fancy, but not too casual either. 

"Are you happy now?" I ask him, and he gives me an honest shrug. 

"Still trying to figure that out . . . but enough with all this heavy stuff, alright? Let's have fun," he smiles before turning off the car. I smile too and head inside with him. 

The amazing thing about Ryan is that somehow I find myself talking to him like he's an old friend. Nothing feels forced and nothing feels uncomfortable . . . it just feels totally right and I haven't felt that way about another person in a long time. Or maybe I haven't felt that ever. 

"Yeah, no, it was crazy. We had this party in New York City and it was pretty amazing," he chuckles, recalling his story. "Best night of my life. You do anything like that for your twenty-first?" 

My smile immediately fades and I shook my head. 

"No, mine was . . . it wasn't like that," I say, quietly. 

"Oh. . . was it a bad birthday, then?" he asks. I shrug and decide I definitely don't want to tell him about that yet. Too much information. 

"You could say that," I murmur, suddenly steering my attention back to my empty plate. Oh. Ryan's eyes follow mine and he smiles. 

Luckily the waiter comes by and fills the silence. 

"Is this separate or together?" he asks, and Ryan and I both reach for our wallets and say "Together." 

"I insist," Ryan says. I try to remember if it's more polite to insist further or to just let him pay. After a few moments of silence, he simply hands the waiter his credit card and I expel a sigh of defeat. "You can pick up the check next time." 

"Next time, huh?" I grin. That means he wants to go out again. That means I'll see him more. This makes me so happy. 

"Oh yeah, definitely," he smiles. I wonder if he knows how great his smile is. On the off chance that he doesn't know, I decide to inform him. 

"You've got a beautiful smile, by the way," I say, only letting my eyes linger on him briefly before looking away shyly. 

"Thanks," he breathes, looking shy for a moment himself. I bite my lip gently and the waiter comes by again to give Ryan his receipt. 

I get all flustered all over again when Ryan pulls up to my apartment building and turns off the car. I look over and shoot him a questioning look, but he just gets out of the car in a casual way that I can only dream of replicating. 

"I'll walk you to your door," he clarifies, and I nod. I shut the door behind me and he walks close to me as we make our way to my front door. I kind of wish that the apartment was further away, just so I'd get more time with him. 

"So," I breathe, turning back to him. 

"So," he repeats, a playful grin playing at his lips. His eyes are bright and searching mine. "I'll call you, I guess." 

"Yeah, that'd be cool," I say. I cringe internally because I'm sounding the opposite of calm. 

"Well, alright," he says, but doesn't make a move to leave. Instead he takes a step forward and I can feel his warmth radiating. I hold my breath as his eyes follow mine. He looks calculating, like he's trying to make up his mind on something. 

Then his hands are at my waist and the physical connection is surreal. It's like I can't even believe I'm so close to someone like him. 

"Is this okay?" he whispers, and I nod. I can't take my eyes off his lips. I'm suddenly hyper-aware that they're there and looking so ready to be kissed. 

He wastes no more time and finally presses his soft lips against mine. I swear I can't fucking breathe as I try and figure out how to respond. He tastes indescribable – 'sweet' is such an understatement. His arms move to circle around my waist and my arms snake around his neck. 

I felt like I could have stayed there kissing him forever, but he did have to pull away eventually. And when he did I was all smiles. 

"Good night, Brendon," he says, smoothly. I just smile like an idiot because I can't think of anything intelligent to say. I just opt for a wave and he chuckles before heading back to his car. 

I let out a dreamy sigh and enter the apartment. 

And I was significantly less than pleased to walk in on Spencer with some girl.


	5. Chapter Five

Lucky for me, the two of them are both clothed, but it still shocks me. Spencer making out with a girl on our couch a girl whom I hope to God was not the same one he was in trouble for sleeping with.

They break apart quickly and Spencer looks up at me with scared eyes that tell me that yes, this is that same high school student. The girl is pretty but she's his student, for crying out loud.

"I'll be in my room," I say, barely above a whisper because I don't even know what to say to him.

He tries to say something to me, but I brush past anyway until I can shut myself in the privacy of my room. I feel like freaking out, and I catch myself so I start taking deep breaths to calm my nervous energy. It kind of works.

I just can't believe that after everything going on with the investigation – you know, losing his job and forcing us into a financial predicament– he's still fooling around with the same kid that got him in trouble.

It especially makes me angry because all I wanted to do was come home and gush and smile about Ryan. I really had such a wonderful night with him, but now my mind is plagued by worrisome thoughts.

My face gets hot and I decide to take a moment to lie down. As much as I want to stay calm all the time, sometimes it's really hard to do.

"Bren?" Spencer calls through the door, giving a little knock.

"What?" I ask, in a tired voice. I don't want to talk to him because I don't want to get angry with him.

A moment later he opens the door and slips into my room.

"She's gone now, so . . . In my defense, I didn't think you'd be home," he says, lowering his eyes as I give him a questioning look. Oh.

"That's the girl, isn't it?" I ask. He remains silence, but his lack of self-defense tells me my suspicions are accurate.

"She's so hot, Brendon," he whines. He sounds more like a sexually frustrated teacher than a twenty-five year old man. "I told you she's eighteen."

"She's the reason you lost your job," I remind him. I sit up and he gives me this look with his big, sad eyes. Oh, come on. "Spence, it's just not a good idea. I don't want you getting hurt . . . or in any more trouble."

"I don't think you understand, this is has been going on for a while," he says it like it's a good thing and I feel uneasy.

"How long is a while? Do you actually like . . . do anything else or is it purely physical?" I ask.

He thinks about it and then winces.

"Shit, it's been over a year," he breathes, shaking his head. I groan out loud.

"Fuck, Spencer! So she was underage when you started – oh my god, I can't believe . . . Spencer, you know if people find out they'll try to get you for that," I warn him, giving him this harsh look. I hate being upset with him, but it's necessary.

"I know I know, I'm sorry . . . Shit, I'm so sorry," he says, like he's ashamed of himself. I know he's not really sorry about it. He's just sorry he got caught. Sorry he was punished.

"Please stop seeing her, it's for your own good as well as hers. At least wait till she graduates or something," I say, tired. I'm just so frustrated by this point. This is not like Spencer at all, but apparently this wasn't even a one-time thing.

"But . . . I'll think about it," he says, like it's the most he can offer me at the moment. "Can we talk about this some other time?"

I shrug. I don't really want it to be so much of an issue that we have to talk about it again.

"How was the date?" he asks. I want to ignore him some more, but the thing is I can't help but smile at the thought.

"It was . . . it was perfect," I say, pursing my lips as I try to make my smile more subdued, more casual. It doesn't work.

"Perfect? Really?" he chuckles, relieved that we're talking about something else.

"Yeah, he's just . . . he's very nice, very funny, very handsome . . . " I say, feeling my chest bubble with who knows what. I couldn't describe the feeling that being around Ryan gave me.

"What's his name again?" he asks.

"Ryan," I say. I like the way it rolls off my tongue.

Ryan. Ryan. Ryan.

I feel like those syllables were made for my lips.

"He from around here?" Spencer wants to know. I nod.

"His mom is in my Saturday class at the community center," I explain. "His wife left him like a month ago so he's living at home again, but . . . oh man, Spencer I wish you could meet him, like now."

"That would be . . ." he starts to say, and then trails off. I look up at him curiously, wondering what's suddenly caught his train of thought. "Caroline has an older brother named Ryan who just got divorced."

I stare at him for a moment, trying to figure out what he's getting at.

"Coincidence?" I suggest. He looks concerned.

"Dude," he says, more firm this time. I scoff and throw my hands in the air in surrender. 

"It has nothing to do with me, I don't want to get involved," I say quickly, before he can try and tell me anything else. This isn't fair and I feel myself pushing and pushing to get whatever is brewing as far away from me as possible. 

"What? So I can't date his sister but you can date him?" he asks, almost accusingly. I give him an incredulous look because really, that's such a stretch.

"That has nothing to do with – Ryan's my age and I have nothing to do with what you did with his sister . . . if she even is his sister and this isn't just some horrible coincidence. "

"Brendon," he says, grumpy.

"Spencer, I really like this guy," I say, trying to get him to understand me. "If I didn't feel this strongly about him, I would just let it go but . . . I didn't do anything wrong and you can't try to punish me, here."

"But it doesn't matter that I have strong feelings for Caroline?" he says. I blink back frustrated tears because really, I don't know where this sudden hostility is coming from. Why doesn't he get it? I don't know how to make him understand what's going through my head.

"I didn't say that," I breathe. He shakes his head and he storms out of the room.

I bite my lip and lie back down on my bed, trying to stay calm. My phone buzzes next to me and I turn to scoop it up. I guess the fact that Ryan's texting me already makes me smile a little bit.

Ryan: Just got home. Tonight was fun. Can't wait to see you again.


	6. Chapter Six

I'm still in a bad mood when I leave for the diner the next morning. I try to apologize to him, so that I can at least have that reassurance that we're okay and that we're still friends. I need that reassurance so much. 

"Brendon! Oh, I'm so glad to have you in today," Kara says when I clock in. I nod and listen as she goes on and on about all of the things that need to get done. I nod and quietly heed her orders. I'm about to shuffle out of the back room and start on her list when she stops me. 

"Hold on, what's wrong?" she asks, and I try to fake a smile but it's just so hard. "Oh, don't tell me the date went badly." 

"What? No, that was. . . That was actually really nice," I say, biting the inside of my cheek. "I had an argument with Spencer last night and it's just getting to me." 

"Aw, well, I'm sure it'll blow over," she shrugs. I sigh, not agreeing but also not wanting to argue. She sees through my fake smiles, and shakes her head. "Come on, you two have been friends forever. I'm sure you'll work past it." 

She was right. I'm being totally ridiculous. 

"Yeah, you're right," I sigh. 

For the rest of my shift, I busy myself in work and I don't think about Spencer much. I don't have much time to think of anything besides eggs and bacon and coffee. But besides being busy, work isn't too bad. I'd take my yoga instructor job over this one any day, but it is what it is. 

After the shift ends, I hang up my apron in the back and clock out. I check in with Kara and chat a bit before I finally head out. 

As I'm leaving the restaurant to start my walk to the nearest bus stop, I notice a familiar blue VW and an even more pleasantly familiar driver. I grin shamelessly and stroll over. 

"Hey there," I say, in a cheery voice as he makes it to the sidewalk. 

"Oh wow, hi," he chuckles, moving in to greet me with a hug. I close my eyes and really try to appreciate those few moments of warmth. His warmth. He smells just as good today as he did on our date and I suddenly want to kiss him again. That would look entirely too eager though. "Are you working?" 

"I was actually just leaving, sorry," I say, slightly disappointed that I don't get the pleasure of stealing glances over the counter while Ryan drinks his coffee. 

"Oh, well, do you want to hang out?" he asks. "We don't have to go here, I'm honestly just killing time."

"Oh yeah?" I ask. 

"I just dropped my little sister off at softball practice, so I've got a couple hours," he shrugs, and I catch myself staring for a moment. Confirmation that he at least has a sister. 

"Oh, I didn't know you had a sister," I said, casually. Just playing it cool. Totally don't know anything about his sister possibly sleeping with my best friend. 

"Yeah, I'm playing chauffeur because she's grounded," he shrugged. "It's a long story, but hey. It is what it is." 

"Right," I say, stiffly. I'm trying to think of a non-creepy way to ask him more about his sister so I can find out if she's the same girl Spencer's been-

"But anyway, I've got a couple hours before I have to go get Caroline so I'm free if you are," he smiles. I have to really force myself to keep a smile. I don't want him to know that my best friend is the teacher his little sister's been fucking around with. Most older brothers are protective and I wouldn't want Ryan trying to kill him or anything. . . .Even though I totally would if I were him. 

"Yeah, I'd love that," I say, smiling. He motions for me to follow him to his car and I do. He talks about a CD that he's listening to, and how his job search is going, and then he manages to slip in that he's been looking forward to seeing me again. I can't stop smiling, even as he pulls into a parking spot. 

Where are we? I'm not even paying attention, but when I look out at my surroundings, I realize that he's brought us to a park. That's really cute. 

"Maybe we can just go for a walk or something," he shrugs, looking a little bashful. He's much more of a romantic than I thought he'd be, honestly. But I love it. 

It's a beautiful day outside, and we take one of the paths that lead down by the water. After we've been walking for a few moments, he takes my hand and I forget how to breathe. I look down at our hands and up at him again, smiling bashfully. 

"What?" he asks, like he's worried I don't like his hand-holding business. I give his hand a light squeeze and I swear he looks flustered. 

"This isn't totally weird is it?" I ask him, as we keep walking. We're too close together for it to be a practical way to take a walk, but neither of us want to budge. We like being this close. 

"What is? Or isn't?" he asks. He's got a playful grin on and I want to kiss him. 

"That I already really like you? That we met because your mom was sneaky and wanted to set us up," I point out. He shrugs and I guess it really isn't a big deal. Sometimes I just like to think about situations and the way things work out because the world is just funny like that. 

"Well, maybe it's a good thing, because my mom already likes you," he chuckles. I smile to myself and he drops my hand, but only so he can slip his arm around my waist instead. His touch makes me feel all tingly inside and it's weird but I love it. 

"Yeah, I guess," I shrug. "So you said you've got an interview tomorrow?" 

"Yeah, for a position at a bank . . . really boring, but I need something," he sighs, disappointed. 

"What were you doing before you were . . . you know," I say, my voice getting quieter because I wasn't sure if mentioning it would upset him. 

"I did marketing stuff for this computer company," he shrugs. "It's you know . . . It's what I went to school for but in a way, maybe it's a good thing I got laid off." 

"Oh?" I ask, curious. Apparently losing his job was the main reason he wasn't even trying to fight his ex-wife on the house situation. He couldn't afford it anyway. 

"I wasn't really enjoying it anymore," he shrugs. "You know how you kind of get in a rut and everything's just . . . I have no idea if I'm making any sense or not." 

"No, I get it. Really, I do," I chuckle, but it's kind of a sad chuckle. I put my arm around him, too, giving him a light squeeze while we're briefly intertwined. He stops walking for a moment and gives me a bewildered look. "What?" 

"Nothing, you just . . . you're always so positive and happy – It's kind of amazing, actually," he says, shaking his head. He has no idea. 

"Well, i mean, there's a lot to be happy about, isn't there?" I ask, avoiding the opportunity to slip in and tell him my sob story about how much I hated myself for the first 21 years of my life. 

"Yeah, I guess there is," He muses. He pauses for a second, then reaches forward to brush aside a lock of my hair. It wasn't really in my face or anything, it's like he's just trying to be sweet and gentle, looking for another excuse to brush against me. "Can I kiss you again?" 

"You really don't have to ask," I say, surprising myself with how smoothly that comes out. How I don't completely fuck up my words and end up muttering nonsense. 

"Well, good," he chuckles, closing the rest of that small space between us. I instantly melt against his lips, molding into his arms and latching onto him. Everything is good and everything is calm. I feel completely lost when I'm connected with him. His lips are soft and wet and the way they move against mine is so natural. 

"Look at those guys kissing!" A little kid shouts from a little ways away. We break apart and red creeps over Ryan's cheeks and I just laugh. The kid can't be older than five and his mom looks so embarrassed. I give her a friendly wave and a smile to let her know, hey, it's okay, I'm not offended. 

"See what I mean?" Ryan chuckles, after they leave. "So nice and cheery."


	7. Chapter Seven

Saturday starts the first session of my summer yoga classes. I feel excited and refreshed for the first day and stand by the door to greet people as they walk in. I see a lot of familiar faces and some new faces, which makes me happy. 

And of course one familiar face is followed by my new favorite familiar face. 

"Taking up yoga now, huh?" I laugh to him, after quickly greeting Danielle. Ryan just gives me a cool shrug. 

"Maybe. Maybe I just think the instructor's hot," he says, with a wink. I feel myself blushing and my cheeks already hurt from smiling. I have to actually try to not look too smitten as I take my place at the front of the room. My relaxing music is still playing, and everyone is looking at me ready to start. 

"Alright, I want to start with mountain pose, as always," I say, pressing my palms together in front of my chest. I see everyone following my instruction, including Ryan. He's so cute doing mountain pose. He's got the best mountain pose in the damn class. "Just breathe in slow, hold it, and then let it out real slow. We'll do that a few times." 

The rest of the session goes by swimmingly and I'm proud of myself for not staring at Ryan the entire time. When the session is over, I make sure to say goodbye to all of the participants so that I wasn't only focused on Ryan. 

"Namasté, Brendon," Danielle smiles to me, bowing. I give her a wide grin and return the gesture. "Well, wasn't that fun. However, I'm pretty sure Ryan didn't come for the yoga." 

"Mom, what are you talking about? I love yoga," he scoffs, sarcastic. I just laugh and stay still because I don't know if it's appropriate to hug him in front of his mom. Danielle rolls her eyes, but stays smiling. 

"Brendon, would you like to come to lunch with us?" she asks, getting straight to the point. For some reason I'm surprised by her offer, but I graciously accept. And then before I know it, I'm sitting in a sandwich café with the guy I'm dating and his mom. Somehow it isn't nearly as awkward as it sounds, and I'm thankful for that. 

Danielle asks me a lot of questions and at some point I wonder if she's interrogating me for Ryan's sake or because she likes me as much as Ryan says she does. 

"Thank you again, so much for the lunch," I say, once we finish up. Danielle beams at me, and insists that it's no problem, but I'm still thankful because she's such a sweet person. 

Danielle excuses herself to use the restroom before we leave and Ryan nudges me in the arm. 

"What?" I ask, turning to look him in his beautiful brown eyes. He's got this devilish grin on. 

"I was thinking," he murmurs, leaning in to place a kiss against my cheek. "I could drop my mom off at home, and then we could hang out a little longer. Just us, you know?" 

"Yeah, I'd like that," I tell him, almost dreamily. 

"Yeah? Well, good," he asserts, glancing around to make sure no one was staring before pecking my lips with his. I live for the little gestures, honestly. 

"Ready to go?" Danielle asks, once she returns and Ryan proceeds to explain his plan to her. She sees no problem with it, doesn't need the car, so we drop her off at Ryan's house before heading back to my apartment. 

"So you live with a roommate, right?" Ryan asks me, reminding me of Spencer all of a sudden. IT registers in my mind that I'm bringing home Ryan, the brother of the girl he's been- I pull out my phone and shoot him a warning text, telling him to stay cool. 

"Yeah, Spencer's great. He really is a great guy," I say, trying to sell Spencer to him. He is a good person, I promise. On the off chance you ever find out about his scandal, just remember that he's a good person. 

"Well, great," he chuckles. "Did you know each other before moving in?" 

"Oh yeah, we've been friends for years," I say, casually. Ryan nods contemplatively before speaking again. 

"I don't have any competition, do I?" he asks, figuratively puffing out his chest and feigning confidence. 

"With Spencer? God no, he's like my brother. And he's straight, so," I shrugged. 

"I used to think the same thing," he counters, casually. He sounds more joking than challenging so I break into a grin. 

Spencer is sitting on the couch, like he's waiting for us when we arrive. I can tell he's put at least a little effort into looking presentable. 

"Hey," he says, as I kick off my shoes and step further into the apartment. He nods to Ryan and holds out his hand. "I'm Spencer, nice to meet you." 

"Ryan." 

"Brendon's told me all about you," Spencer gushes and I roll my eyes. 

"Oh has he?" Ryan grins, turning back to me and smirking. I shrug, unabashedly. 

"Well, anyway, I'm glad I could meet you finally," Spencer grins. "I'll be in my room if you guys want the living room." 

I low-key thank him for the privacy and motion for Ryan to make himself comfortable on the couch. 

"Do you need anything? Anything to drink?" I offer, trying to play the good host. He shakes his head. 

"Nope, just you, c'mere," he says, patting the spot next to him. As soon as I'm next to him, his hand is caressing my cheek and his lips are capturing mine. I inhale deeply, kissing him even deeper. He gasps slightly and his lips part. His tongue slides against mine, and I don't even notice that I've got my arms around his neck. I definitely notice his hand squeezing my thigh. 

"Have I ever told you that you're really sexy?" Ryan asks when we have to come up for air. I've never been left so breathless after a kiss and it's got my head spinning. I look at him with longing eyes and shake my head 'no' because he actually hasn't. "Well, that's a mistake on my part because you are. Absolutely beautiful." 

He of course, has no idea what his words mean to me. I'm so overwhelmed that I attack his lips again and he's smiling against me. He kisses me for a moment or two before pulling me down so we're both lying on the couch. He's on his back and I'm half on top of him. Part of me is worried that if I lay all the way on top of him, I'll crush him. 

I have my head rested against his chest, listening to his heartbeat, comforted in knowing it's racing the same way that mine is. 

I don't know where time goes, but I feel like I've blinked and hours have passed. Ryan and I are still close together on the couch, half cuddling and half indulged in conversation. 

"No no, I swear it's not as dumb as it sounds," Ryan laughs, and I love his laugh so much. He's talking about his college and all of the crazy traditions they had. "One time I gave the statue my favorite hat as an offering." 

"An offering? What does that do?" I want to know. It's so unique and it's so weird, and talking about it's got the biggest smile on his face. 

"It's good luck. You give offerings to the statue and you get good grades," he says, proudly. "And lo and behold, I aced my econ midterm right after." 

"Go you," I say, grinning and squeezing him a bit. I really am intrigued by his stories. "It sounds like you've had so much fun. So interesting." 

"Nah, no way," he scoffs. "You're way more interesting, Mr. Yogi. How did you even get into that, anyway?" 

"Um," I mumbled, my heart twisting a little. I went silent a little, not sure if I should elaborate or just lie. I mean, I guess I knew that if Ryan was going to be distant or something after I told him, then it would just be a sign he wasn't the right guy for me. But I wanted him to be the right guy for me so badly. By this point, we'd been seeing each other for a month, and I don't know. 

"You okay?" he asks, his lips brushing against my forehead. 

"My therapist recommended I try it," I say, in a dull voice. Do I need to elaborate? Probably. 

"Therapist?" he asks. His tone isn't judging or mean, he's just curious. I take a deep breath. 

"Sorry if this is kind of heavy, but . . . "

"It's okay, you can tell me, Bren," he assures me. Bren. 

"When I was 21 I was hospitalized for an eating disorder," I tell him, still embarrassed that it got to that point. People always seemed to think I was just vain or obsessed with being skinny, and I didn't want Ryan to be one of those people. Because, really it was so much more to it than that. 

"Oh, baby," he sighs, apologetically. Kisses my forehead again. Baby. My heart is so warm. I don't feel unsafe like I thought I would when I told him. "You don't have to talk about it if you don't want to. But know that I'll listen if you do." 

"Okay," I breathe, nuzzling against him. I really don't want to talk about it.


	8. Chapter Eight

"Ryan seems like a cool guy," Spencer tells me the next day. "Like, nice and stuff." 

"He is," I say, only slightly distracted by an email I have to reply to regarding one of my classes. Something about someone wanting a refund because they can't make it to the next class. 

"Did you tell him yet?" he asks, awkwardly. He takes a seat at the kitchen table, folding his hands in front of him expectantly. I scoff and shut the laptop. 

"No, of course not," I say. 

"Are you going to? Has he said anything about it?" he asks, still worried. I shake my head, because really it's not our business to talk about anyway. I'm feeling frustrated because I just want to be happy in my own relationship without having to worry about Spencer's drama. It's not that I don't care what's going on, I certainly do. It's just very stressful. 

"Spencer, I don't think it's my place to say anything about it," I explain. I give him an apologetic look because he still looks a little worried. "It doesn't seem appropriate to bring up his little sister's sex life." 

"True," he sighs, in defeat. I notice he seems a little down and I'm a little confused. 

"Everything okay?" I ask him. 

"No, not really," he sighs. I give him a sad look because I really do hate it when he's unhappy. "Caroline texted me this morning. Said she wanted to break things off. So, um, I guess that's good for you, right?" 

I feel terrible. My stomach twists and I somehow feel like it's my fault that Spencer's upset. I was the one that told him he should stop seeing her but – I didn't want to see him so upset about it. 

"Spence, hey, it's alright. You'll be alright," I say, going over to him and rubbing his back supportively. He's got his head in his hands, his fingers tangled in his hair. 

"I just don't understand. I sacrifice everything for this girl and what do I get out of it? Absolutely nothing. Fucked up," he says, shaking his head. "It's like she doesn't even give a fuck. It's like she wanted me to get fired and . . . shit." 

I fight the urge to remind him that she's just not mature enough, and that he should be dating girls his own age anyway. And that he should have known better than to date a student. But of course that's probably the last thing he wants to hear right now.

"I'm so sorry, Spencer," I say again because I just don't even know what to say. 

"Can you not?" he snaps, making me jump. He gets up from the table and I'm taken aback because I don't even know what I'm doing wrong. Spencer's never snapped at me like that before. "I know you didn't want us together anyway, so what's the point of being fake about it. You fucking win, okay? You get to date your fucking boy toy." 

I just stare at him, my eyes wide and my jaw slack because I just can't believe it. He storms off and slams his bedroom door behind him. My throat feels tight and I just want to cry and run after him and make him not mad at me anymore. How do I make him not mad? 

I stand there for a moment, just trying to process my own thoughts and I can't. 

I jump when my phone rings. My back pocket is buzzing and I slip it out to see who's calling me. It makes me sad that the caller ID isn't enough to pull me out of my shocked state. 

"Hey," I say into the phone, trying to keep my voice even. 

"Hey you," Ryan says, clearly in a much better mood than I'm in. I draw in a shaky breath and he catches me before I can even speak. "You alright?" 

"I don't know," I say, honestly. How do I even start to tell Ryan what the problem is? My best friend is mad because Ryan's sister dumped him and now he's taking it out on me. Doesn't have a very nice ring to it. 

"Well, hey, I was just calling to see if you wanted to grab drinks or something," he said. "Celebratory drinks." 

"What are we celebrating?" 

"I got a job!" 

I manage to smile at that one because I'm so happy for him. 

"With the bank?" I ask, because he told me about that interview. 

"Yeah, at their office downtown," he says. He sounds so excited and I wish I was seeing his perfect face as he's telling me this. "It's probably totally boring, but hey. It's one step closer to not staying in my parents' house." 

"Yay, that's great," I say, smiling warmly. "I'm so happy for you, Ry. I would love to go and celebrate." 

"Cool, cool," he chuckles. "Alright, so I'll come pick you up then."

\---

"Have some," Ryan says, noting that I hadn't touched the cheese fries that he ordered for the two of us. I took one of the fries and put it on my plate. 

"So when do you start your new job?" I ask him, picking at the label on my beer. 

"Not this Monday but the next one," he explains, grinning. He's so cute when he's happy. He's cute all the time, but when he's happy . . . that's just a whole other level. I glance down at the beer label, running my fingernail against the wet paper and scratching out the nutrition facts. I felt uncomfortable with those number staring me down.

"That's so great, Ry," I tell him, the nickname slipping out like second nature. I've got a question at the tip of my tongue, and I'm not sure I can hold it in much longer. "Can I ask you something?" 

"You just did," he says, like it's the funniest joke, and it is, but only because he said it. 

"Ha-ha," I say, humoring him before I get back on track. "Is this . . . you know, what we're doing here – are we exclusive? Like, are dating or are we, like . . . "

"Well, we're certainly dating," he chuckles like it's obvious. Then he gets serious again, matching my tone. "And I've . . . I've never had a boyfriend before, but I think I'm willing to take that step. With you." 

"You sure?" I ask, unable to hide the growing smile. 

"Yeah," He breathes, nodding. Yeah, he's definitely sure. He leans over and kisses me gently. After he pulls away I rest my head against his shoulder, feeling nice and safe because now Ryan Ross is mine.


	9. Chapter Nine

"I seriously can't wait for you to meet her, I'm so excited," Ryan laughs to me as he drives me to his house. After some pushing and arguing, he managed to get his dog back. I thought it was only fair, seeing as his ex got everything else. The car, the house, the least she could do was not take the dog away. 

I'm so glad I haven't had to deal with a divorce, and I hope that I never have to. Ryan's always got something going on. Apparently you can't just simply un-marry someone, you have to go through this whole legal battle. There was even a point where his ex wife was trying to say that he caused her emotional trauma by coming out as gay. I thought that was especially stupid. 

When we get to his house, the dog bounds up to us, this chunky little hound that looks like she couldn't be happier to have Ryan home. He grins wide when he sees her and kneels down to scratch her ears. 

"Oh, who's a good girl? Yes you are!" he chuckles, then looks up at me. "This is Dottie." 

"Aw, what a cute name," I smile, reaching out a hand. "May I?" 

"Oh, of course. She's a total sweetheart," he insists. I smile and reach to pet the dog, who responds in the friendly manner I'm expecting. 

"Ryan? Where'd you put that pair of scissors that was in the living room?" A girl's voice calls out and suddenly I'm a little nervous. She rounds the corner and stops when she sees me, brief recognition flashing in her eyes. 

"I didn't do anything with it," he scoffs, standing up. "Whatever, Caroline, this is my boyfriend Brendon. Bren, this is my sister." 

"Oh, um, nice to meet you," I say, smiling like I've never met her before. She shakes my hand awkwardly and I don't think Ryan notices the tension between us. I hope she's smart enough to not say anything. Besides, she's not seeing Spencer anymore, anyway. 

"Same," she smiles, thankfully not saying anything. "You were right, Ry, he's cute." 

She adds the last part with a teasing wink and I swear Ryan looks so embarrassed as she leaves the room. 

"You talk about me?" I ask, biting lightly on my lower lip. He shrugs, his embarrassment shifting into coolness. 

"Of course I do," he says, stepping closer to me and slipping his arms around my neck so he can kiss me. I still can't get over how good his lips feel when they're pressing against mine. It's like my entire world is upside down, yet exactly where it's supposed to be at the same time. 

Ryan breaks apart from me and squeezes my hand. 

"Come on, I'll show you around," he says. He shows me through the house, telling me little stories about some of the quirks it had. For example, there was a chip in the leg of the coffee table in the living room. Ryan said it was from when he was ten and tried to carve his name into it for some reason but got in trouble before he could finish. 

He finishes the the tour in the basement, which has been fashioned into a temporary bedroom for him. He's got this paneling sectioning off his part of the basement from where the laundry room and other storage is. 

"My mom thought it would be a good idea for me to stay down here," he explains, as I look around. He's a little on the messy side, but I don't mind. He's got a bed and a dresser and a nightstand, as well as a stack of moving boxes in the corner of his room. "You know, so I can have my own space." 

"Yeah, makes sense," I shrug. 

"It still feels so weird being back here, honestly," he says, almost solemnly. He sits on the edge of the bed and pats the spot next to him so that I'll come join him. 

"How so?" I ask, interested to hear what he had to say. 

"I mean, when I first moved out and got married I was always under the impression that . . . hey, this is it. This is where I am and where I'm always going to be," He shrugs. He adjusts and lets out an awkward chuckle. "I'm sorry, I know you're probably sick of hearing about my marriage." 

"No, not at all. You can talk about it if you need to," I say, because it's true. Maybe I'm not as jealous as I thought I'd be, but I don't feel that way whenever Ryan talks about her. He never sounds like he really misses her, but I know it must have been a lot for him to make a decision like that. 

"I just never meant to hurt her, you know?" he says, a bit of guilt lacing his voice. "She thinks that I knew it going into the relationship, that I used her or something but I promise that's not what happened. It was a gradual thing, you know? Thinking well, I've dated this girl for a long time, the socially acceptable thing to do is marry her. And I had . . . thoughts before, but I was so convinced that once we were married it would all go away and then we did and . . . "

"It didn't?" I ask, when he seems to be struggling for the words. He gives me a sort of forlorn look and shakes his head. 

"No. It only got more and more . . . " he struggles again, like he's having trouble vocalizing. It makes me wonder if he's ever had the chance to actually talk to someone about everything that happened. 

"Gay?" I offer, smirking and hoping to lighten the mood a bit. He cracks a small smile. Nice. 

"Yeah, I guess," he chuckles before letting out a long sigh. "And then one day, the realization was so intense I realized that if I stayed with Kellie I'd be living some sort of lie." 

"Well, that was a very strong thing for you to do," I tell him, honestly. "I'm really proud of you." 

"Thanks," he says, giving me a dreamy smile. "No, really, thank you. Ever since I started seeing you, I feel like it's all started to make sense. Like going through all the pain is starting to seem worth it." 

I give him a small smile and lean in to kiss him. My fingers brush against his soft cheek as he kisses me back. His eyelashes flutter against his cheeks as his eyes close and he deepens the kiss. His arms are around my waist and I scoot closer to him. 

The kiss lasts just a few more seconds before we hear footsteps overhead and the sound of the front door opening and closing. 

"That'll be my mom," he says, pecking my lips once more before we head upstairs. 

"Oh, hey there Brendon, it's good to see you," she says, suddenly brightening when she sees me. It's a good feeling knowing how much Ryan's mom likes me. I feel like I don't have to try hard to impress. "Ryan, honey, help me with the groceries?" 

Ryan nods and his hand leaves the small of my back as he goes into the kitchen to help his mom put stuff away. I'm about to walk in after them to see if they need any extra help when Caroline taps my arm. 

"Hey," she whispers. I freeze up a little because I don't want to talk to her. Not because I dislike her but because she makes me nervous. "Can you tell Mr.Smith to call me?" 

She calls him Mr. Smith. I feel uncomfortable. 

"What?" I say, because my mind is drawing a horrible blank. 

"I had to delete his contact from like everything so my mom would think that I'm not seeing him anymore," she says, her eyes darting towards the kitchen as she tries to keep her voice down. I groan internally. 

"I'll do what I can," I say, just in time for Ryan to come back out. 

I don't have any intention of relaying that message to Spencer, though.


	10. Chapter Ten

I'm lying in Ryan's bed and everything feels right with the world. We just finished watching a movie and he said he had to run to the bathroom. He'll be right back. 

But I'm just lying there, my head against his pillow because he's asked me to spend the night and of course I've agreed. I'm wearing one of his shirts that smells like him and it makes me happy. I can hear his footsteps coming back down the stairs and my heart flutters. 

He pulls back the divider and steps into the 'room.' He's got an oversized t-shirt on and he's wearing his glasses and he just looks so damn attractive. 

"Hey," he says, in a sleepy voice. He slides into the other side of the bed and immediately pulls me into his arms. I smile and drape my arm across his waist, his body warm and firm beneath the thin fabric of his shirt. I'm just lying there, facing him, and I love the view more than anything. "You need anything?" 

"No, everything's good right here," I say, warmly. His lips find mine, moving slow but with purpose. My arms circle tighter around his waist and he moves so that he's pressed against me, his hand suddenly in my hair. 

I can barely breathe with the way he's kissing me, but there's nothing in the world that I'd rather do than kiss him. His lips are wet and they slip against mine as they part, letting his tongue slide in. MY own tongue presses against his and suddenly I feel like I can't get close enough to him. We're pressed so close but it's still not close enough. 

Without thought, my hand slips up under his shirt, tracing over his soft skin. I can hear his breath falter a bit and I halt my lips, wondering if I've gone too far. 

"What?" he asks, breathlessly. His pupils are wide and his eyelids heavy. I move back in to kiss him, pressing my palm against the skin on his back. "Want me to just take it off?" 

Of course I do. 

"Yeah," I breathe, watching as he sat up to pull the shirt over his head. He tosses it aside and then turns back to him, somehow looking even sexier than he was before. He hesitates a moment, then dips back down. This time he's on his side, half-propped up and over me as he kisses me. I run my hands over his smooth skin, exploring this new aspect of him. 

His lips crash into mine again, tongues colliding and saliva mixing. He moves again, so that he's over top of me, his elbows resting on either side of my head. He drops his head and lets his forehead against mine for a moment and I can feel his breath swirling against my cheeks. 

"You okay?" I ask him, wondering why he's stopped. 

"Yeah, yeah," he breathes, pecking my nose. He moves again and our breaths hitch at the same time, because suddenly I can feel his erection pressing through his boxer shorts. Dangerously close to mine. His eyes find mine again and I remember that had sex with another man before. 

"Hey, it's okay," I say softly, looping my arms around his neck and pulling him down to me. I can feel him relaxing, his lips brushing against my neck. My hands trail up and down his bare back and I just feel so connected with him in that moment. 

"Are we gonna . . . are we really gonna do this?" Ryan asks, breathlessly. I assume he's referring to sex. "I've never –"

"I know," I assure him. "And, well, we can." 

"Okay." 

Okay. 

Okay, cool. 

I move my hand from his back and slip slowly beneath the waistband of those thin shorts. A tiny whimper escapes the back of his throat as I cup his c.ock with a shaky hand. He's long and thick and hard as a rock and I can't tell if he's more nervous than I am or vice-versa. 

I run my hand up and down, gently at first until I can tell he's fully content with it. He crawls back over me, capturing his lips in mine at an angle where I can't really reach him anymore, so I slip my hand out and focus on kissing him instead until he pulls away again. This time, he kicks all of the covers off of us, half of them landing on the floor. I prop myself up as he slips out of his boxer shorts, leaving himself exposed to me. God, he's so beautiful. 

I slip out of my– well, his– pajama pants and toss them into the pile he's created. His eyes rake over me as he starts to come back to me. He still seems like he's waiting for something. 

"The shirt, too?" he asks, kissing my lips quickly. My stomach twists. 

"The shirt?" I repeat, like I didn't understand the question. Obviously I understood, there was just something ominous in those words and I couldn't tell at that point if it was my own mind messing with me or not. 

"Yeah," he says, grinning, his mouth moving to my neck like he's just ravishing me. He is. 

"Ok," I breathe, noting that removing a shirt should not be this difficult. 

I sit up and gingerly pull at the fabric until it's off and on the floor and I just feel naked, naked, naked. Really naked. 

"Fuck," he breathes hungrily and I guess it makes it feel a little better because by some miracle he likes what he sees. I tremble as he wraps his long fingers around the base of my d.ick and we both gasp at the contact. He's moving his hand up and down, looking down at it like he's fascinated by the fact that he's holding another man's c.ock. I reach out and do the same to him for a while. 

"You've got lube, I hope?" I ask him after a while, because it's a painfully necessary staple and it's suddenly occurring to me that maybe he doesn't know. 

"Of course," he chuckles. "I uh, I know what to do, you know." 

"You do? I thought–"

"I do have access to the internet." 

The idea alone has me going weak. 

He breaks from me to go and retrieve the items in question and I watch as he rolls a condom over his length. He's concentrating real hard as he pours the lube over his fingers. He looks back over at me and I lie down on my back, spreading my legs apart for him. 

He presses a slick finger against my entrance, slowly sliding it in. I wince at the discomfort because it's been so, so long since I've had sex. He does that for a while, adding a couple more fingers until we both decide it's enough and then it's Time. 

He moves closer to me, the head of his member finding my entrance. I hold my breath as he slowly pushes into me. 

"Fuck," he mutters. "Shit, this is– God, Bren." 

I hold my arms up for him and he bends over me so I can hold onto him. His lips crash against mine as he starts up a rhythm that's just blowing my mind. 

Before long, I feel like my skin is covered in a layer of sweat and my lips are swollen but I can't stop kissing Ryan. 

He thrusts into me and I almost cry out because he's struck that one very important spot. Fuck. 

"Ryan, oh – ugh," I moan, breaking from his lips reluctantly, because unfortunately I need to breathe. He readjusts and goes in at a different angle, making me squirm again and god, everything is just so perfect. 

It doesn't last nearly as long as I'd want, and before I know it, Ryan's sitting up and handing me tissues to clean up the mess we just made. 

After that, he's pulling the covers back on the bed and curling up behind me. His skin is on mine and it's all I need to fall asleep comfortably.


	11. Chapter Eleven

I stab my fork down into my salad, trying to distract myself from the awkward tension between Spencer and me. He's sitting across from me at our kitchen table, and we've barely made conversation. 

"Is that all you're going to eat?" Spencer finally asks me and my eyes flash up to him. I'm almost offended by that question, because he hasn't asked me about my eating habits in a long time. It's offensive because I'm fine now. I'm recovered. He knows that. 

"It's a salad, Spence," say, simply. 

"So . . . that's a yes?" he clarifies. 

"Yep," I say and he lets out an almost disappointed sigh. 

"Brendon, don't do this, come on," he groans and I frown because I wonder what he's even trying to do. Normally I'm all about being friendly and kind with Spencer, who's like a brother to me. But I'm still not over the way he blew up at me over Caroline. 

"What? It's a salad, it's healthy. There's nothing wrong with being healthy," I explain, looking down at the bit of green I had left. "Plus, it's kale, and that's got . . . you know, more calories." 

He gives me this forlorn look and I stare back down at my salad. 

"What else have you eaten today?" he asks, and then I feel shut-down. 

"Stop it," I warn. He's not doing this to me. I'm convinced that he's just trying to turn everything around on me. Because obviously he can't deal with being wrong. And I guess I'm an easy target. 

"Bren, I'm just looking out for you–"

"Spencer," I snap, almost surprising myself. I hate yelling and I hate getting angry. I stand up from the table and clear off my bowl. He watches as I march into the kitchen and drop off my dishes. 

"Wait–" Spencer says, trying to catch me before I make it to my room. I turn around and give him just a moment. "Next time you go to Ryan's . . . could you talk to Caroline for me?" 

I scoff and slam the bedroom door behind me. 

Once I'm in my room, I can feel myself getting worked up. My energies are all off and I feel so out of sorts. This isn't my fault. If only . . . if only stressful things could just stop happening. If they weren't happening I wouldn't have to deal with them. 

"Fuck," I mutter to myself, before going over to my radio. I need something to make the air more relaxing. I turn on the music. I light a candle. I sit down on my floor and try to meditate. 

\---

"Brendon, you look exhausted," Kara tells me later that night when I'm covering a shift at the diner. I've been so tight on money because Spencer still hasn't found another job yet, and I don't see Ryan as often as I was seeing him because he's got a full-time job now. 

I'm happy for him, but part of me wishes we could both just quit everything we were doing and just hold each other forever. Because lately, at least, in his arms is where I feel safest. 

"I'm fine," I insist, flashing her a smile even though I feel like I'm going to crash at any minute. I lean against the counter, taking a minute to catch my breath. 

"Seriously, you've been here long enough, you can go home if you want," she says. I want to stay stubborn and stay until she originally wanted me to. But I can't deny that I'm so tired and I agree that it's best that I just go home. 

I stop by the bathroom for a moment so I can wash my hands. As I'm about to leave I glance in the mirror and take note of how tired I actually look. And it seems like I'm gaining weight. 

I almost fall asleep on the bus, but luckily a phone call from Ryan keeps me awake. I smile at the screen and answer. 

"Hey," I say, softly. 

"Hey baby, how are you doing?" he asks. I smile, because it's not irritating when he asks me. 

"I'm alright. Heading home from the diner," I tell him. 

"Oh, okay, yeah I was just about to ask if you were home," he says. "I haven't seen you much this week and I just kind of miss you." 

"Aww," I say, smiling to myself. "I miss you, too." 

He goes on to tell me that he's on his way to my place now, and that he'll meet me there. When I get off the bus, I only have a couple of blocks to walk until I'm at my building, and Ryan's car is already in the lot. When he sees me, he gets out and locks the car. 

"It's so good to see you," I say, sliding my arms around his waist as I go in for a hug. He holds his arms around me and I press my face against his shoulder. Yes, this is definitely my Happy Place. 

"How was work?" he asks, running a hand through my hair affectionately. It's crazy the way he looks at me, because what I just saw in the mirror was bordering on disgusting. But he makes me feel like maybe I was just imagining things. 

"Boring," I say. 

"You alright?" he asks me. His hand slides from my hair to the side of my face and I nod, slowly. 

"I'm just really tired," I tell him. "But I'm glad you're here." 

"So am I," I tell him. He takes my hand in his and we continue to my apartment door and we step in. Spencer's door is shut, so I assume he's already in bed or something. 

I decide to turn on the TV, feeling almost blissful as I lay with Ryan. His arm is around me and it's almost enough to help me fall asleep right then and there. 

"Hey, Bren," Ryan says. 

"Hmm?" He gives me a light squeeze and kisses my temple. 

"I um, I love you," he says, trying to sound casual, but I can hear the nerves in his voice. The words catch me by surprise and I twist in his arms to face him, just completely bewildered by his announcement. His eyes are wide and searching. 

"Really?" I ask him. Just gotta make sure. He nods. 

"Yeah. I'm sure," he says, a small smile forming on his lips. I smile and kiss him. 

"I love you too," I tell him, because it's true. I mean, of course I love him! Of course we're in love, and everything makes sense and– 

I look up when I hear Spencer's door open. Moments later he's coming out of the hallway with a girl. 

"What the fuck?" Ryan mutters, sitting up and trying to make sense of the fact that his sister is in my apartment. I just stare, because I had no idea she would be over. I was sure they were done. 

"Ry, it's okay, don't get mad," Caroline says, trying to calm her brother who seemed to be heating up by the second and I was worried because I'd never seen Ryan so mad before. 

"Are you fucking– who – " Ryan gets up from the couch and I sit up. He doesn't even know where to start. "What are you doing here? And what the fuck are you doing with my baby sister?" 

"I'm not a baby, Ryan," Caroline snaps and he glares at her. "And if you must know, this is Mr. Smith." 

Oh no. 

He quiets down for a minute, staring at her. His jaw is tight and I want to know what's going through his head. I'm just scared because I don't want Ryan to be upset. 

And then Ryan's fist is colliding with Spencer's face.


	12. Chapter Twelve

Everything happened so fast, the next thing I know, Spencer is recoiling and I literally have to grab Ryan and hold him back so he doesn't hit him again. 

"Let go of me!" he seeths, struggling to get another punch in. 

"Ryan! Stop!" Caroline pleads, as Spencer just has this completely guilt-stricken look about him. Ryan rips away from me, stepping back from everyone for a moment so he can calm down. 

"What the fuck is wrong with you?" He booms at Spencer. Spencer is speechless. Rightfully so. 

"I'm sorry, I swear it's not what you think," Spencer says, making his first attempt to defend himself. Ryan glares again and makes another move for him and I pull him back to me again. He pushes away from me and I'm heartbroken. 

He turns toward me, still fuming and I'm actually afraid. No, Ryan, please don't be mad at me. I love you, please don't yell at me. 

"Did you know about this?" He asks, accusing.

"I didn't know she was your sister . . . at first," I say the last part so full of guilt that I don't even know what to do so I just look down at my feet and–

"Are you kidding me? You knew?" he asked. "Why wouldn't you tell me?" 

I've hurt him. Fuck, he's upset. Fuck. 

His dark eyes are swimming with confusion and anger and I have no idea what to say to make him feel better. 

"I didn't know until after we met that they'd been. . . and it's not like I approved of it," I said, desperately searching for something to clear my name. 

"You still should have told me – should have warned me when you introduced me to this – sick –"

"Ryan!" Caroline shrieks again. I chew my bottom lip nervously. "I'm eighteen years old and he's not even my teacher anymore." 

Ryan looks over at him and narrows his eyes. "Yeah, he's been fired like he deserves for fucking a student." 

"Look man, I don't mean to cause any issue with you, I know–" Spencer tries to appease him, but Ryan isn't having any of it. He waves his arms, ready to come back again, but instead he opts to start putting his shoes back on. Oh no.

"I need to get out of here," he muttered. "Caroline, you're coming home." 

She looks guilty, too, and instead of arguing follows Ryan out the door. My chest tightens and I feel like panicking, so I run outside after them, basically desperate. 

"Ryan, please don't leave," I beg him. He turns back to me, still looking irritated, and that's the thing that puts me over the edge. Tears are rolling down my cheeks and I'm just so scared. "Please don't hate me, Ryan." 

"I don't," he insists. He sighs and steps closer to me, taking one of my hands. Suddenly I'm very conscious of the fact that I'm crying in front of him and embarrassment overwhelms all of my other emotions. "I love you, and that still stands. But I'm mad and I need to go be mad somewhere else." 

"I'm so sorry," I say, pathetically. 

He doesn't say anything, he just presses a kiss against my forehead and starts to leave with his sister. I stand there staring off at them until they're in the car and driving away. My eyes are wet and my throat is sore as I go back into the house. 

Spencer is still sitting on the couch. 

Right where Ryan told me he loved me. And then Spencer had to come in with the girl and – 

"I'm sorry Bren–" 

"Don't," I say, albeit harsh. I just can't believe the whole thing that just went down. All I knew was that I had an absolutely perfect moment with Ryan and it was ruined. And now all I could think about was the look of absolute disappointment in his eyes. I bite the inside of my cheek as a question rolls through my mind. "Does Caroline love you?" 

"What?" he asks, not expecting the question. 

"In the entire timeframe that you two have been fucking, has she ever told you that she loves you?" I ask, getting impatient. I still haven't been able to stop the tears. 

"No," he says, quietly. It's all I need to know. 

I storm past him and shut myself in my room for the rest of the night. 

\---

I texted Ryan and he hasn't gotten back to me yet. 

I'm standing in the kitchen at the diner, half paying attention to the eggs on the griddle and the phone in my hand. Kara comes by to scold me for not paying attention and saves the almost-burnt eggs. 

"What is wrong with you? You can't text and griddle at the same time!" she says, incredulously. I just shrug and move on to whatever I had to do next because I don't have anywhere near the amount of energy it takes to argue with her. 

"I'm sorry," I mutter. 

"Hey, whoa, what's wrong? Why the sad face, Bren?" she says, catching my mood. I shrug, wanting to tell her everything but also not wanting to get into it at all. Her hand reaches my shoulder and I flinch even though she's just trying to comfort me. Sometimes I forget that she's my sister, meaning she knows me better than anyone. 

"I'm just not doing well I guess," I say, taking in a long breath. She pauses for a minute. 

"Are you still on that medication?" she asks and I groan. She thinks it's an ED thing. 

"Not like that," I groan, wondering why everyone's so persistent about that. "That was years ago." 

"So? You're my baby brother and I'm still going to worry about you," she insists, and for some reason I think of Ryan and how he called Caroline his baby sister, and I'm emotional all over again. It's the most vicious of cycles. 

"You don't need to," I insist. Luckily, I don't have to talk about it anymore, because the door chime sounds and I look to see Ryan entering the diner. His eyes find mine and I freeze. I half expect him to just go to his regular table and avoid me, but he marches straight up to me instead. 

"Hey can we talk?" he asks. Kara motions for me to go on, and I follow him nervously to a table in the corner. 

"First of all," he says, taking my hand before I can get the chance to sit down. "I missed you." 

He pulls me in for a quick hug and I hold on tight to him before we separate and sit across from each other in the booth. 

"I'm so sorry for not telling you sooner, god," I say, rubbing one of my eyes. I'm so fucking tired. 

"I mean, I guess I understand why you didn't say anything. . . I was just in shock, you know?" he explains, lightly drumming his fingers against the table. "My mom's been so stressed out about it ever since we found out because, I mean, a teacher? That's scandalous. And I mean, I think that's why she loves your yoga class so much because she gets a chance to relax." 

"Well, that's good," I say, actually kind of warmed by the idea that my class was helping someone. 

"But yeah, so I'm sorry if this drives a wedge between you and Spencer, but I just can't . . . Fuck," he groans, sliding back against the bench. "It's a lot to take in." 

"I mean, if there's a wedge between me and Spencer right now, it's not your fault," I admit, sadly. He looks back up at me, worried. "Like, I've been telling him to stop seeing her, because – I mean, he fucking lost his job over it and she doesn't even love him. And that affects me because now I have to pay most of our rent and he's not listening to me, and I can't just tell him to leave because he's my best friend." 

"I mean, Bren, when it comes down to it, you've got to do what's best for you," he tells me, softly. I bit my lip, trying not to get worked up in the restaurant. 

"I don't even know what that is, though."


	13. Chapter Thirteen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a warning that this chapter gets a little heavy

Ryan talking to me again was supposed to make me feel better, but I still felt like shit. Sleeping is difficult and Spencer is difficult and every time I look in the mirror I swear I'm getting fatter. 

I find solace in Saturday and go into my yoga class with the expectation that it will make all of my problems go away. 

But when I get there, I'm sitting up front, my legs crossed in front of me as everyone mimics my pose and I can't stop thinking about how I just want to go home. I'm in a funk and I can't get rid of it because it's following me everywhere I go. 

As if to make matters worse, when class is finally over, Danielle stops me. I don't want to talk to her because I'm worried she knows about my roommate situation and might hate me for it. 

"Brendon, hi," she says, getting my attention when class ends. "How are you?" 

"I'm good," I lied. 

"Good, good . . . everything alright? You seemed a little sleepy today," she points out and my stomach churns. I hope she only noticed because she knows me better than the other clients, and that there weren't others in the room going "oh god, he's boring." 

"I'm fine, just tired is all," I assure her. She sighs and gives in, before telling me she hopes to see me soon and leaving. I drop off my key at the front desk with Jenna and leave without saying more than just "See ya" to her. 

I ride the bus home, convinced that I'm just going to slip right through and sleep. I just really want to sleep. 

When I get home, Spencer is in the kitchen, making himself something for lunch. He asks me if I want any and I say no, because I'm not hungry. I mean, I'm hungry but I'm not too hungry. I can deal with it. 

\---

After a few hours, or however long it had been, I'm woken up by a knock at my door. I sit up with a start, wondering what's going on. 

"Come in?" I mumbled, still a bit groggy. The door opens and Spencer slips through. . . followed by Ryan? "What?" 

I sit up in bed and Spencer flicks the light on. What time is it? When did Ryan get here? Why aren't Spencer and Ryan killing each other? 

I squint in the sudden light and Spencer starts speaking again. 

"Brendon, look, I know I've been an ass lately but when it comes down to it, I care about you just as much as Ryan does, if not more," he says. Ryan gives him a bit of an irritated look, but opts for rolling his eyes instead of arguing. "And we feel bad that the stress is getting to you." 

"Okay," I say softly. Ryan comes over and seats himself on the edge of my bed, wrapping his arms around my shoulder.

"So we're going to take you out alright? We're gonna cheer you up," he says, kissing my cheek. I'll admit, it means a lot that they want to go out of their way for me, but I don't really want to go out. But I also don't want to disappoint them or give them reason to pity me even further. 

Ryan said he liked that I was cheerful and positive. What the fuck happened? And would he still love me knowing that I'm not always that person I pretend to be? 

"Um, okay," I mumbled. Spencer beams and claps his hands together. 

"Great," Spencer says. "I'll let you get ready then." 

And then he leaves Ryan and me by ourselves. 

"How are you?" Ryan asks me, pressing another kiss against my forehead. I sigh and slump against him, kind of wishing he could just stay there with me. 

"Fine," I mumbled. I feel his lips against my hair. 

"My mom told me you looked sad this morning at yoga," he explains. "I tried calling you earlier, but you didn't answer so I uh, I called Spencer. Just to make sure you were okay." 

"You actually called Spencer? Don't you hate him?" I ask. He sits up and rolls his eyes. 

"Of course I do, but I'm willing to put up with it if it means being with you," he explains. " I may not like Spencer, but that doesn't mean I'm going to let his mistakes come between us." 

"Thank you," I say, unintentionally choking up because his words really mean that much to me. 

"Shh, hey, don't cry," he says softly. "You're fine." 

"I'm sorry," I say and he tells me not to apologize but I'm still sorry. So, so sorry. Always. 

I finally get up and clean up enough to where I feel acceptable enough to go out. We take Ryan's car and he drives us downtown to this bar with live music and lots of people. 

Spencer orders us a round of drinks and says they're on him because he feels bad or something. 

"Hey, you doing alright?" Ryan asks me, slipping an arm around my waist as he slides into the booth next to me. It's hard to hear him but I nod and let him capture my lips with his. His kiss helps ease the anxiety of being out with everyone and I start to think that maybe I do want to have some fun. 

I take a sip of my drink as the waitress drops off plate of nachos that Ryan's ordered for us all to share. Spencer takes one and gives me this expectant look. I sigh because, really I need to show them I'm fine. 

Because I am fine. I'm totally, completely fine and I'm not afraid of calories. Past Brendon was afraid of calories, and This Brendon is not. 

"Thanks Ry," I tell him when he hands me a small plate. I reach for the nachos and take a few, ignoring the fact that they're covered in cheese and meat and sour cream – 

It tastes good and I try to concentrate on the taste and not on the calories or how heavy it is because I'm fine. 

I have several. Not as much as Ryan and Spencer, who finish off the entire plate, but I have enough for them to not question me. 

"I'll be back, bathroom," I say, sliding past Ryan because I actually have to go. I get to the bathroom and do my business before heading to the sink and washing my hands. I turn the sink off and look up into the mirror. 

That's when the guilt sets in. 

I have this horrifying realization that I've somehow gained ten pounds from eating with Ryan and Spencer and I can't believe I let myself do it. I shouldn't have had the alcohol, and I shouldn't have had the nachos. Hell, I should have just said no, I should have asked for water and if I was really that hungry I should have just asked for a cracker. But not, instead, I was just so, so, so stupid. 

I cover my mouth with my hand because I'm horrified but I can't look away. My chest is heavy and my eyelids are welling with tears. Oh god, what have I done? 

I'm choked up and shaking before I even realize what's happening. The bathroom door opens and I dart for one of the stalls because the calories are burning my stomach and I have to get them out.

"Brendon? Bren?" I hear a voice, but it's so far away. My world is spinning and I don't even feel like I'm fully here anymore. By the time the voice reaches me, my fingers are already down my throat and I'm heaving. It hurts and it burns but I can't just leave it. I can't. 

I feel a comforting hand on my back and I can't even look up because I'm just so ashamed. It's like a second round of guilt, worse than the first, when I realize I'm kneeling in front of a toilet bowl in a bar restaurant. How fucking pathetic. 

I stare down into the mess I made and my eyes well with hot tears.

"I love you so much, Brendon. God, you know I love you," Ryan says, his voice trembling. His arms slip around my middle, pulling me so that I'm leaning back against him. His face is buried against my shoulder and I can feel the wetness soaking through the fabric of my t-shirt.


	14. Chapter Fourteen

Everything was such a blur that night that I barely remember getting home. I cried until I physically couldn't cry anymore and I didn't have the energy to even realize how badly I was freaking out. 

But somewhere between the early, early hours of the morning, I felt myself waking up. My eyes still sting, but other than that I feel pretty numb. I also feel Ryan's arm around my waist, his chest pressing against my back. 

He didn't leave me. 

"Are you awake?" he breathes, his grip tightening on me. 

"Yeah, sorry," I breathe. I didn't mean to wake him up. I twist in his arms so that I can turn around and face him. His hand drifts up my body until he's gently caressing my face. 

"Don't be sorry," he says, quietly. His lips find mine in the darkness, placing a clumsy, sleepy kiss against them. "How are you feeling?" 

"Fine," I say. 

"Bren," he says, not believing me. 

"Bad," I correct myself. I wonder if he can see me frowning in the darkness."I don't know what came over me." 

He wraps his arms around me again, pulling me close to him so that my face is pressed against his neck. His scent is comforting as always, and I feel terrible for upsetting him. 

"I'm just worried about you, Brendon," he tells me. 

"I'm sorry." 

"No, stop that," he sighs. "As your boyfriend who loves you, it's my job to be worried." 

"You don't have to, though." 

"Exactly. I don't have to, but I still do. What does that tell you?" he asks. 

"That you're a perfect boyfriend and I don't deserve you," I choke. It hurts my throat to be getting choked up again, but I just don't know what to do anymore. 

"Brendon," he sighs, pressing a kiss against my temple. I draw in a shaky breath and cuddle closer to him. "I just want to be able to help you." 

"How?" I want to know. I don't even know how to help myself because I don't know what I want. Don't know what my mind wants. Everything is so confusing because when I'm calm I know that I have a good life and that I'm healthy. But when I'm not, every little thing that goes wrong seems like the end of the world and I don't know how to get out of that state when I'm in it. It's all terribly unsettling. 

"I was talking to Spencer a little bit after we got home," he says, and I wonder what Spencer has to do with anything. "And he told me that he was with you that first time you were in the hospital." 

"Yeah," I say, trying not to think of it.

"He said he had no idea that you weren't eating," he explains. I don't understand the significance of that because it would be terribly awkward to have told Spencer I was starving myself that week. "And I had no idea this time that you were that stressed out and I just. I don't know." 

"I'm sorry-"

"You don't have to be!" he says, quickly. I hold my breath, worrying that I've upset him again. He relaxes after a moment and kisses my face again. "I just want you to know you can talk to me. If you're having a bad day or you're stressed out about something . . . just please talk to me, okay? Don't hold it in." 

"I don't want to bother you with my problems," I admit to him. Because that's the core of it. Ryan's got a lot on his plate, doesn't he? I don't want to be the one to add to his problems. I mean, I suppose he has a job now, and his divorce is mostly settled. . . but still. 

"And you won't," he says, quietly. I purse my lips together, blinking back fresh tears. "So, even now. If you have anything you want to talk about right now, you can tell me." 

"It's so early, I don't want to keep you up," I say, wriggling one of my arms free so I can dry my eyes. 

"I'm already up, babe," he chuckles, nuzzling my cheek a little. Warmth wells within my chest and I can't deny that it feels good to be loved, even if I don't really deserve it. 

"I love you," I tell him in a weak voice. He squeezes me tight and I can make out the outline of his smile in the darkness. 

"I love you, too," he says. "So, so much." 

I smile a little to myself and adjust in his arms so that we're both a little more comfortable. 

"I'm so stressed about everything," I finally admit, and he nods against me showing me that he's listening. My heart is beating in my chest, because usually I'm more of a fan of mediating my problems away. "I know that I'm not going to be able to afford rent without Spencer and I know he's going to either have to find a new job like, tomorrow, or he's going to have to move out because I just can't afford to pay for both of us and-" 

"Hey, hey, it's okay," Ryan says, placing a soothing hand against my cheek when he realizes I'm starting to freak out again. 

"No, it's not," I tell him, unable to stop the tears from streaming down my face. "I'm trying so hard to juggle everything and I just can't keep up with everything going on. And it's just not fair because Spencer's my best friend . . . but he's the one that fucked up this time, and . . . but I feel bad because he was so supportive of me when I . . . Fuck." 

"Hey, it's okay," he tells me again. "Not everything is about reciprocating you know? Even if Spencer was there for you . . . I mean, you're still supporting him, but you can't do it to the point where you're breaking too, you know?" 

"Yeah," I shrug. He's probably right. 

He's silent for a while, like he's thinking about something. I start to wonder what's going to end up happening, because I can't see myself affording this apartment without Spencer's financial input. 

"I um, I've got that job now, you know," he says quietly. "Maybe we can find a place together."


	15. Chapter Fifteen

I find myself sitting in a booth at the diner next to Ryan. Spencer's sitting across from us and I've never felt more uncomfortable. I'm expecting Spencer to get mad and maybe yell at me again. 

But he doesn't. 

"So . . . you're moving out," he says, quietly. I can't tell if he's sad or not, but he definitely doesn't sound angry. I'm holding my breath. 

"I'm sorry, I just can't afford the place where we are now, and I just –" I feel Ryan's hand on my knee, a gentle reminder that I don't need to be getting so worked up. I glance over at him and he gives me a soft smile. God, I love him. 

"No, that's . . . That actually works out, because I've been thinking of moving back in with my parents for a little while," he sighs. I let go of a bit of the weight on my shoulders. "Hey, maybe if I'm gone, Ryan can just move in."

"We actually found a place," Ryan cuts in. I look over at him, reflecting on how we'd spent the weekend searching for a suitable apartment, and ended up running into a small house that was in our price range. We were only renting it, but still. It's the most perfect house in the world. 

"Oh?" Spencer asks. "Is it far?" 

"Not at all," Ryan says, pulling out his phone so he can show Spencer the pictures that the realtor sent us. 

So I guess that conversation ended up going a lot more smoothly than I thought. I still had about a week left in the apartment with Spencer after that, but I guess it was fine. I spent that week trying to figure out which of the things we shared were technically his and which were mine. 

"This is yours, isn't it?" Spencer holds up a tea kettle that he pulled from the back of one of the cabinets. 

"Nope," I say, shaking my head. 

"It's gotta be, I hate tea," he says, and I just shrug. 

"I don't remember it," I say. I'm pretty sure I'd remember if I bought a tea kettle. Then again, Spencer and I had been living together for a few years and everything just started to blur together. "I'll take it, I guess." 

Spencer nods and puts it into the box I had designated for my kitchen stuff. 

"So, you excited?" he asks me, stepping down from the step ladder and closing the now-empty cabinet door. We barely have anything left to go through in the kitchen now. "I mean, moving in with Ryan, that's a big step isn't it?" 

"Yeah, but . . .I trust him," I say, smiling. I mean, it's true. Ryan and I have been together for a few months now and I love him more than I've ever loved anyone. And he's proven to me time and time again that he loves me in the same way. I don't know what I ever did to deserve someone so amazing, but I wasn't about to keep questioning it. 

"That's good," he says, smiling. It's a bit of a bittersweet smile. "I'm still so sorry about everything that went down." 

"It's okay," I say. It's not, but we're okay now. Spencer's apologized to me a million times by now and I don't want to keep arguing about it. 

"Are you sure you're okay?" Spencer asks, like he's worried about letting me out of his sight all of a sudden. 

"Yes," I say, not wanting to argue about that, either. I'd relapsed, yes, but it wasn't anything I couldn't bounce back from. That's what I'd been telling myself anyway. I was back to seeing a therapist and taking medication, which I hated, but I was going to be fine. At the end of the day, I still had my yoga, I still had my Ryan, and Spencer was still my best friend. 

At the end of that last week, Ryan stops by with a small U-Haul truck that he rented for the day. I don't have much to move, but none of it was going to fit in the little VW he had. Over all, it only takes a couple of hours to move everything that is mine. 

"So you're good then?" I ask Spencer for the thousandth time. The apartment is bare with only his boxes left inside. 

"Yeah, I'm great, my uncle's coming by later with his truck," he says. "I've got enough help. You don't have to stick around." 

"Are you sure?" I ask him, still wary because I don't want to leave him with too much work. 

"I'm positive," he assures me. I let out one final sigh and pull him in for a hug. As frustrating as he'd been sometimes, I'm really going to miss living with him. "Don't forget about me now, okay? I still want to hang out and I want the first invitation to the wedding–"

"Spencer!" I scoff, because I haven't even started to think that far ahead yet. 

"Just saying!" he laughs. I roll my eyes playfully and sigh again. "You're moving in with him, marriage isn't that far off." 

"He's probably so over being married, though," I point out, recalling his divorce. Besides, we'd been together for less than a year. Even trying to think of marrying someone is ridiculous. Even though Ryan is literally perfect and understanding and I couldn't imagine spending my life with anyone else. 

Still. 

"I doubt it," Spencer shrugs. I just sigh another time and Spencer rolls his eyes."Now quit sighing and get out of here." 

"Alright, fine," I chuckle. "Maybe once we get all moved in and settled you can come over for dinner or something." 

"I'll hold you to it," he says with a wink. And with that, I give him another hug goodbye before meeting Ryan outside. He's already got the truck all started up and he's ready to go. I slid into the seat next to him and he leans in to give me a quick kiss. 

"All ready?" he asks. I smile and nod. 

The house is in the same city, but it takes about fifteen minutes or so to get there from the apartment. The neighborhood is quiet, and our house is probably the smallest, but that's okay. It's this little white house with a narrow driveway and a patio in the back. 

It takes a little longer for us to get everything in, because by that point we're tired and just want to be done. We would just leave the moving until tomorrow, but Ryan says he has to return the truck soon. 

Once we've got the last few boxes in, Ryan says he's going to go off to return it, and I take the time while he's gone to start unpacking. I venture into the room that we'll be sharing and find the box with some sheets in it, because I know we'll need those so we can sleep comfortably tonight. When those are located, I make the bed and step back, thinking that everything looks perfect. 

This is our bed. Our room. Our home. 

It's absolutely perfect. 

Some of the other things, I want to wait on unpacking because I want Ryan to have a say in where things go, too. 

When I hear Ryan's car pulling into the driveway, I venture back out into the living room, just in time to meet him as he comes in. 

"Hey you," I say, grinning. Suddenly my chest is swelling because everything is finally setting in. Ryan grins and sets his keys down on the kitchen table before coming over to me. His hands find my hips and he pulls me in for a kiss. 

His lips are just as sweet as ever and my lips curl into a grin as he kisses me. 

"What?" he asks, chuckling as he pulls back a little. 

"Nothing, I'm just . . . I can't believe we did this," I say, because really it's crazy. But it's fine because it's Ryan and for some reason that fact that I'm with him helps to make sense of everything. 

"It's crazy, right?" he asks, like he's been reading my mind. I close my eyes momentarily as he presses a kiss against my forehead. 

"Yeah, but it's okay," I tell him, softly. 

"What if I made it even crazier?" he asks, which is a bit of an odd thing to say. 

"How so?" I ask, curiously. I can't imagine that he's going to spring anything bad on my, because I trust him more than I trust anyone. It's kind of crazy how knowing that he's seen me at my lowest yet still showers me with love makes me feel so much more secure in our relationship. 

"Well a couple weeks ago I was thinking about how crazy in love with you I am," he says, and I bite my lip to keep from smiling too wide. It doesn't work, though. He's just got such a way with himself that I'm smiling before he even says those words anyway. "And how we're starting to settle down already." 

"Yeah?" I breathe, getting more and more curious to see where he was going with this. He steps back from me a little and fishes for something in one of his pockets. 

I stare at him with wide eyes as he produces a simple, silver band. All the air leaves my lungs as I try to process what's going on. 

"Is that a –" 

"Yeah," he says, looking at the piece of jewelry in his hand, like he can't believe he's doing this either. But it's all very, very real because the next thing I know, he's dropping down on one knee and the only thing I can think of is how the hell Spencer predicted this. 

"My beautiful Brendon, will you marry me?" he asks and I feel like passing out. 

"Are you sure?" I can't help but blurt out. He nods and I nod because I can't even figure out how to produce words until he's standing up and sliding the ring onto my left hand. He grabs my face in his hands and kisses me hard. 

"So you're sure?" I ask again.

"Of course," he assures me, smoothing down my hair with one of his hands. He's standing close to me again and I love having him so close. 

"You're not like, turned off to marriage?" I ask, still making sure that he wanted to do this. I mean was he sure? Was he actually sure he wanted me? Me?

"Of course not," he assures me. "I've never felt this way about another person . . . The way I felt about my ex . . . that was nothing compared to how this feels right now." 

I stare at him in disbelief, because I can see it in his eyes. The love. He loves me. Enough to marry me. 

I lean in again and capture his lips with mine. His arms slide around my waist as he walks us over to the couch. He plops down next to me, breaking the kiss for a moment. 

"I love you so much," he tells me. I smile up at him and tell him that of course I love him too. 

THE END.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading :)


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